


until the poets run out of rhyme

by silvershadowsea



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: F/M, and i'm here for it, eddis short story said nb helen rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29598303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvershadowsea/pseuds/silvershadowsea
Summary: A week before their wedding, Helen and Sophos escape a party together.
Relationships: Eddis | Helen/Sophos
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	until the poets run out of rhyme

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [sachte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sachte) and [storieswelove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storieswelove) for the beta!! <3
> 
> Featuring art by [fishmaid](https://fishmaid.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Title is from "Baby I'm Yours" by Barbara Lewis:
> 
> _Baby I'm yours (baby I'm yours)  
>  And I'll be yours until the sun no longer shines  
> Yours until the poets run out of rhyme  
> In other words, until the end of time_
> 
> _I'm gonna stay right here by your side  
>  Do my best to keep you satisfied  
> Nothing in the world can drive me away  
> 'Cause every day you'll hear me say_
> 
> _Baby I'm yours (baby I'm yours)  
>  And I'll be yours until two and two is three  
> Yours until the mountain crumbles to the sea  
> In other words, until eternity_

It was a beautiful night in the lowlands of Attolia. The evening was unusually cold for late summer, and inside the palace, the candles in the chandeliers burned brightly. Vivid fabrics glittering with gold and silver accents filled the hall like splashes of paint on a canvas as courtiers swirled around the room, their eyes bright with laughter. Servants distributed wine to groups of chatting attendees, weaving in and out of the guests who sat or stood at the sides of the hall. 

Above them all, perched on the dais at the top of the hall, sat the rulers of Attolia, Eddis, and Sounis. The tables had been cleared for dancing, and the four sovereigns were left sitting in dining chairs more ornate than Helen’s own thrones in Eddis. 

Helen looked over at Eugenides, who was sitting to her left. “Will you be dancing with your wife?” He always danced the first dance with Irene, and usually spent most of the evening either dancing or talking with her, but Helen would never let him live down the months he’d spent avoiding her at every banquet in favor of whichever partner would draw the least attention.

“Perhaps a dance or two,” said Gen, eyes twinkling. “Then I suppose I’ll find Heiro.” He craned his neck, searching for her in the crowd.

Helen shook her head and laughed. “You’re ridiculous.” 

All at once the musicians began playing a bright melody. It was an Attolian tune, immediately distinct from Eddisian ones, which typically began with just one instrument at a time. Helen recognized it and was grateful that the first dance would be a simple one without too much unnecessary jumping; she’d eaten more food than was strictly necessary and her stomach was still full.

Eugenides stood and held out his hand to Attolia, who took it, and they led the way down the dais. Sophos stood next and walked past the two empty chairs to take Helen’s hand. They’d been separated during the meal, with Eugenides and Attolia between her and Sophos. Helen knew it was only protocol that dictated the seating order, but it felt like a prank from the gods, keeping her so far away from her fiancée. She and Sophos spent plenty of time in the same room together, in endless meetings and assemblies and dinners, but somehow they were never quite next to each other.

Out on the floor, they were joined by more pairs to form two long lines down the center of the hall. They held hands with the people on either side of them, and the dance began. It mostly involved stepping toward or away from each other, or circling around the dancers closest in line and quickly returning to their original positions. It was an excellent dance for conversation, which made it all so much more enjoyable, Helen thought.

Sophos was directly across from her, but it was Eugenides, standing next to him, who drew Helen’s attention. She eyed her cousin’s extravagantly embroidered jacket. “That coat is lovely, Gen,” she said sarcastically. Following the dance, she stepped to her right and around Sophos, bringing her even farther away from Gen. “What your clothes really needed was _more_ gold,” she continued, leaning forward to be sure her voice carried past Sophos’s bulk.

“Thank you. I agree,” Eugenides called back smugly. 

Helen now turned to her left and took Attolia’s hand. Glancing down, she noticed with delight the embroidery on the other queen’s sleeve. “Oh, you _match_! Whose idea was that?”

“Not mine,” said Attolia, rolling her eyes affectionately at her husband. 

“Speaking of clothing,” said Gen brightly, “I’m glad you finally took my advice. You don’t look like a peahen anymore.” 

“Well, it’s not like I had a choice. You got rid of that green dress yourself.” 

“And the matching earrings,” he pointed out.

He had been right about the green dress, although she would never tell him so. She had hated it. She had never found a dress she _enjoyed_ wearing, but the dress she was wearing now was tolerable, made of plain fabric with a tastefully embroidered overskirt and multicolored vest. It was formal enough for a banquet, but just barely.

In time with the music, they stepped back to their starting positions and — _finally_ , Helen thought — took their partners’ hands. Sophos squeezed her hands and smiled down at her from his ridiculous height. Her breath caught and she missed the first step of the next section. She stumbled just slightly as she caught up to the rhythm of the tune. Looking around subtly to see if anyone had noticed, she saw Eugenides smirking.

Too soon, the dance was over and the next began. It was another Attolian one but much more energetic than the first. The spirited choreography would provide very little opportunity for hand holding, and no conversation at all. As soon as she recognized it, Helen turned to Sophos and shook her head. 

“Maybe later. I’m exhausted.” She stepped to the side of the room, away from the dancers.

Sophos followed her. “Are you all right?” he asked, concerned. “We could go back up and sit for a while.”

She waved him away. “No, you go ahead and keep dancing.” Glancing around, she found him a dance partner, a middle daughter of one of Attolia’s barons who was standing alone against the wall. Helen pulled Sophos over to her and introduced them. 

“I think I saw you in the audience at _Anthos!_ ” Sophos said immediately, eyes lighting up. It was a play they’d seen the previous week.

“Yes, I was there! What did you think of the staging?”

It quickly became clear that they would not be dancing. ( _“The use of the trapdoor in the second act was completely unnecessary!” “No, it showed how the character emerges into his new life after the tragic death of his sister!”_ ) Helen, already familiar with Sophos’s opinions on the play, left him to his fervent defense of set design and returned to the dais to sit and look out over the crowd. She meant to watch the dancing, but her eyes kept drifting to Sophos, who was gesturing animatedly, probably reciting some piece of _Anthos_. He flung his arm out and almost hit a passing servant in the face. Helen covered a laugh.

Dance after dance went by. Helen tried to subtly stretch her legs out in front of her; she’d been sitting and sipping her wine for what felt like an hour, she’d lost track of Sophos, and she was getting stiff.

“I’m going to take a walk around the room,” she said to her attendants. “No need to come with me,” she added as they tried to follow her. She stepped off the dais alone and made her way through the crowds around the edge of the hall.

Helen typically would have spent a good portion of the evening dancing, but she simply didn’t have the energy. The treaty negotiations were exhausting. It didn’t help that she wasn’t sleeping well, either. Night after night, she woke gasping for breath, shaking her head frantically to clear away the visions of her people killed by their very own sacred mountain— 

No, she wouldn’t think about this now, she told herself firmly. She remained stubbornly focused on her immediate surroundings as she made her way around the hall. A lace detail on a sleeve. The glint of a silver goblet. A curly lock of hair escaped from its braid. She nodded and smiled politely at those she passed. She was here in Attolia’s banquet hall, not in Eddis, and everything was fine.

She decided she’d had enough of the dais, where she was in full view of the entire crowd and needed to maintain perfect posture, back straight, ankles crossed, feet tucked daintily to one side. ( _“Don’t slouch, Helen, how many times do I have to tell you?”_ came her aunt’s voice in her head.) So, having stretched her legs enough, she found an unoccupied table at the edge of the hall and sat down. From the small table, she could watch the dancers while staying out of view of most people here. She slouched gracelessly over the table, propped her chin on her hand, and studied the dancers’ movements, tapping her foot to the rhythm. It was a melody she didn’t recognize.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and a voice, low and warm in her ear. "Hi." 

She turned to find Sophos dropping into the chair next to her. These were plainer wooden chairs, and his creaked as he settled into it.

“Nice to finally see you,” she said with a soft smile.

He inched his chair closer until their knees were touching. “I missed you.” 

She moved her own chair even closer in response, until his entire left leg pressed against hers.

“How are you enjoying the party?” Sophos asked, a smirk in his voice. 

“Oh, it’s all right. Improving by the second, though.” Just being next to Sophos made her feel more relaxed than she had been all night. “I’ve been watching this dance and I don’t recognize it; it must be new.” She watched the dancers as they moved in a complicated circular pattern, pairs of them weaving in and out of the circle, separating to dance with other people before joining hands again. She glanced at Sophos. “Do you know this one?”

“I might,” he said with a small smile, not quite enough to pull at the scars on his face that turned his grins into sneers. He leaned closer, a blush spreading across his face, and spoke quietly enough that nobody around them would hear. “Care to join me for a dance lesson?”

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now?”

He placed his hand palm up on the table, and she grabbed it. “Follow me,” he said.

As they stood, Sophos glanced around for any sign of attendants or guards. He began to lead Helen toward the nearest door, but she’d caught Gen’s eye from where he sat up on the dais. He gave a single shake of his head, and she paused, keeping hold of Sophos’s hand. Gen tilted his head almost imperceptibly to the right. Helen raised her eyebrows and pointed at the next door over. Gen nodded. “This one,” she said to Sophos, pulling him away from the guard neither of them had seen through the crowd but who certainly would have noticed them as they drew closer to the door.

They made it out of the banquet hall without incident, and once they turned a corner, Sophos stopped and turned to face Helen. He held her hands in his and smiled mischievously. “So, normally you would pass by two pairs of dancers there—” he gestured over her shoulder with his chin and tried to lead her through the next steps of the dance, but she wouldn’t budge. 

“You’re trying to tell me you really did bring me out here to _dance_ ,” she said, deadpan.

He broke out laughing. “I did not.”

“Good. I do want to learn that dance, but perhaps another time.” She grinned.

“I’ll teach it to you next time we have a free hour,” said Sophos, “which may not be for a while. To the garden?” It was their usual destination when they wanted to be alone.

She scrunched her nose in distaste. “No, it’s cold out.” 

“What, too cold for the queen of Eddis?” he laughed.

She pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare tell anyone I said that.” 

He shook his head sadly. “I suppose if it’s too cold outside, we’ll just have to go to my rooms.”

Helen badly wanted to go to Sophos’s rooms. “Tempting,” she said, taking his hand again and running her thumb back and forth across the back of it. But even as she spoke, she had already decided that the responsible course of action would be to go back to the party. “We’d better not,” she said apologetically. “You know as well as I do that our attendants will be looking for us soon. If we disappear completely it’ll cause an uproar.” Her heart sank at the prospect of going back through the door into the banquet hall, where even at the table in the corner someone was always watching them, but she said anyway, “Let’s go back in.”

Sophos shrugged. “We could stay here in the hallway.”

Helen laughed. “I suppose you’re right.” She glanced around and spotted a narrow staircase leading up from the hall. “There. I want to sit down.”

She walked up the stairs, careful not to trip over her skirt in the dark; none of the lamps were lit in the staircase. Taking advantage, she went just far enough in to be hidden from view in the shadows, and sat down on a step. They wouldn’t easily be seen by people passing in the hall, and if they were quiet, they wouldn’t be heard over the noise of the revelry.

Sophos sat down on the step below her. Even sitting a stair below her, he was so much taller than she was that their eyes were almost level. He slouched. 

She laughed. “No use for royal posture here,” she said in a satisfied voice. She briefly considered sitting in his lap, but the stairwell still felt too exposed, even in shadow. Her self-control wouldn’t last forever, and she needed her wits about her to keep an ear out for the attendants who would surely be after them soon. So instead, she drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. 

They smiled at each other for the space of several breaths, until the silence was broken by Helen pointing at Sophos and exclaiming, “Frogs!”

“Frogs?” He frowned in confusion, then looked down at his jacket. “Oh, frogs!” She had meant the style of clasp on the front, twirled gold cording that looped over a knot in the cord on the opposite side. It was a style common to Eddisian formalwear.

He grinned. “Do you like it?”

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice earlier. You’re practically an Eddisian,” she said.

“Oh yes, my pale skin and blond hair won’t be noticeable at all as long as I have _frogs,_ ” he said. Helen laughed. 

Sophos was gazing at her with a captivated look on his face. Suddenly serious, he said, “I’m so lucky that I get to hear your laugh for the rest of my life.”

She kicked him in the leg. “It’s up to you to keep me laughing."

“I promise I’ll tell you every single joke I hear,” he said, then raised his arms in defense as she went to kick him again. “Only the good ones!” he laughed. “Only the good ones, I swear!”

Helen settled back into her spot on the stairs. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head back slightly, listening to the music. 

For a moment she thought only of the melody, but then her thoughts began to drift. She didn’t realize she’d let her emotion show on her face until she heard Sophos say softly, “You’re worried again.” 

Helen blinked her eyes open. “Sorry. Just…I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Is it nightmares again?”

She smiled sadly. It was still disorienting that he could see through her so easily, but also reassuring to know she didn’t have to explain herself to him. “Yes… I’d hoped…” She closed her eyes, frowning again. Sophos reached out and placed a comforting hand on her knee. “They haven’t subsided,” she finally finished, and placed her hand on top of his.

Eyebrows drawn together in worry, he gazed at their two hands for the space of several breaths. “I wish I could help,” he said at last. And she wished she could stop burdening him with her worries and her nightmares, but here he was, offering his aid.

They could talk about this later, she decided. The week had been stressful already, and she needed to think about something else. “You help plenty. Just distracting me is enough,” she said.

A sly smile appeared on his face. “I’m good at distraction.”

Sophos’s hand on her knee — now sliding up her leg — was certainly very distracting. Almost distracting enough to make her forget the dreams entirely. 

She swatted his hand away. “Stop that, we’re in public,” she laughed. She’d meant to say it in a reproving tone of voice but couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Save it for tonight.” 

When Sophos had arrived in Attolia, Gen had apologized that his rooms were so far away from Helen’s, but he’d also pointed out a shortcut that decreased the distance significantly. For once, she had been grateful for all the time he’d spent running off to Attolia. Gen knew of a hallway, formerly used by servants, that had been rendered obsolete by the construction of a new palace wing. It allowed Helen to walk most of the distance to Sophos’s rooms with no one the wiser. Still, she longed for the day they could share rooms instead of traversing what felt like the entire palace to see each other.

She leaned forward to hold Sophos’s face in both her hands and said emphatically, “I cannot wait to be married.” 

His eyes lit up. “Neither can I,” he said as he leaned in for a kiss. Within seconds he was smiling, and then laughing softly, and he had to pull away.

”Every time I kiss you I catch myself thinking I need to enjoy it while it lasts, as though we’ll go back to just being friends who write letters back and forth.” He shook his head, laughing at himself. “We’re so close to the wedding I know I shouldn’t think that anymore.” 

He paused for a moment, staring into the space over Helen’s shoulder. “Your letters all burned, you know. When the slavers set fire to the villa. I used to reread them every day.” He pushed his hair back from his forehead with a sigh. “Well, not all of them. I only managed to sneak some of them out when I was exiled." 

She squeezed his hand. “I still have the letters you wrote to me. I’ll show you sometime, they—”

“No, I don’t want to read those ever again!” Sophos groaned, blushing visibly even in the faint light. “I don’t want to think about all the embarrassing things I said. I was so young and I was hopelessly in love with you.”

“But it wasn’t hopeless, was it?” Perhaps at the beginning of their correspondence, when he was very young. It had certainly seemed hopeless during those long months when she believed him dead. But not anymore.

"I know," he said softly. "I can't believe my luck."

Helen couldn’t believe her luck either. “I love you,” she said, marveling, as she often did, at the series of events that had led them here.

The wonder must have been apparent in her voice, because Sophos said, “You always sound surprised when you say that.”

She rolled her eyes. “The correct response would have been ‘I love you too.’”

“Of course I do!” He kissed her lightly on the nose. “I love you. I love you. I love y—”

“Thank you,” she interrupted, laughing. 

“If I said it out loud every time I thought it, I would never stop. I’d be sitting in meetings, looking across the table at you, and I’d be saying ‘I love you’ over and over again. The barons wouldn’t appreciate it.”

“It would be far more interesting than listening to a report on the last twenty years of olive production,” she laughed. Helen didn’t think she’d get tired of hearing him say “I love you.” And if they were very lucky, they would both get to say it to each other for many more years. Not laughing anymore, she said quietly, “I never thought I would fall in love.” 

She had never even factored it into her plans. As a young princess of Eddis, she’d always known she would be married off for political reasons, and it had never bothered her much. Well, until she met the previous king of Sounis. The thought of marrying Sophos’s uncle was laughable now. To think that she might have married him instead of Sophos was too appalling to consider. 

“I had hoped that I would enjoy my husband’s company, of course, or that we could be friends. But you were a complete surprise.” 

“I thought I might fall in love,” mused Sophos. “But I never thought it would be with my wife. It’s just like you said, I’d hoped whichever daughter of a baron I eventually married would be friendly, but I didn’t expect anything more.”

“But you _did_ think you’d fall in love?” she said curiously. “With whom, then?”

“I’m not sure exactly.” He made a vague gesture. “A visiting prince. A general, maybe, or even an attendant. Just… I never thought I’d fall for a woman,” he said matter-of-factly.

Helen paused. She was not as blunt as Sophos, and she had to convince herself to keep talking. Now was as good a time as any, she thought, hidden in a stairwell with Sophos confessing his secrets too. She _did_ want to tell him. Heart pounding, she took a deep breath and continued. “I could argue you still haven’t.” 

Sophos looked confused. “Haven’t… fallen in love?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” She took another breath to steady herself. “You haven’t fallen in love with a woman.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you never wondered why I go by Eddis, instead of Eddia?” Despite herself, her heartbeat was racing even faster. This was a part of her she’d been sure she would never share.

“I have,” he said. “I thought maybe… to make sure everyone knew you weren’t waiting around for a king. That you would rule alone.”

“That’s part of it.” She pressed her lips together, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve told you how I’ve always known I would be the last Eddis. With the same certainty, I knew I was never meant to be Eddia. The gods made that very clear.”

Sophos paused, processing. “So it was the gods’ decision, not yours?” She heard only polite curiosity in his voice, and her heartbeat began to slow from its frantic pace.

“Not exactly. They _know_ me, better than I know myself. When my father died and I announced I would be Eddis, it understandably caused a certain amount of unrest. But I was confident in my decision because I knew I had the gods’ blessing. They knew I would need that assurance.” She would not have had the courage to declare herself Eddis if the gods had not already told her it would be so. She continued, “And Eddis has always felt right to me. Eddia is a woman’s title. I didn’t want the expectation that I would be the kind of queen they were used to.” 

She shifted so she could lean against the wall of the stairwell, looking down at Sophos with her head tilted. It was easy to continue speaking now that she had gotten started. Sophos was an attentive listener, never letting go of her hand. “When I was little, I watched my cousins go from boys to men, or girls to women. I always thought it was inevitable, the mysterious transformation that would turn me into a woman and make me suddenly feel like I belonged. But it never happened. To transform from girl to woman, you first need to be a girl, and I don’t know if I ever was. I was a child, and then I was Eddis.” 

Helen plucked at the embroidery on the hem of her skirt with her free hand. “These outward signs of femininity, dresses and jewelry, I can wear them. I can project that image. But it’s not me. I used to care about it so much more,” she said, smiling ruefully. “I told myself when I became queen that I wouldn’t care, and then I let the expectation get to me anyway. For a long time I suffocated under layers of skirts and tight bodices every day, but now I refuse to wear anything more formal than this.” 

She slapped her hand down on her embroidered knee. “Still, I cannot wait to be back in trousers. The less anyone thinks of me as a woman, the better. I am Eddis, and they need to remember that. Just because Gen is high king does _not_ mean he is king of Eddis.”

Sophos looked incredulous. “Nobody thinks that.”

“He’s ranked above me, he’s a man, and he’s Eddisian. Odds are good they do.”

“Impossible,” said Sophos firmly. “Your people love you.”

Helen sighed. “I hope they do. Loyalties are so easily won.”

“You are Eddis,” he said simply.

\-----------

The magus searched the banquet hall, growing increasingly frantic. He couldn’t find either his king or the queen of Eddis, and he was rapidly becoming concerned. 

_I should’ve expected this_ , he thought grimly. He’d been working toward a union between Sounis and Eddis for years, and he’d been pleased at first to see that the two of them were getting along well, but at the moment his patience was being tested. He’d never anticipated the amount of time he’d have to spend chasing them all over the palace. They were acting more like lovesick teenagers than the dignified rulers they were supposed to be.

Approaching the dais, the magus bowed to the king and queen of Attolia. “Your Majesty. Gen,” he said, turning toward the king.“Have you seen Helen or Sophos?”

Eugenides raised one eyebrow. “What, you can’t find Sophos? Aren’t you supposed to be his chaperone?”

The magus glared at Gen, who sat nearly sideways, one leg draped over the arm of the chair. “Of the two of you, my king is the less likely to need a chaperone.”

“Hm,” said Eugenides. He tilted his head back to gaze at the painted ceiling. “Shall I tell you?” He looked at the magus. “It would be much more entertaining to keep watching you running all over the hall looking for him.”

The magus tapped his foot in exasperation. 

“Fine,” said Eugenides loftily, sitting up. “I saw my cousin who is Eddis dragging your king off to a dark corner—”

“They went out that door,” interrupted Attolia, nodding to a door down the right side of the hall. Eugenides glared at her.

“ _Thank_ you,” said the magus, bowing only to Attolia this time. He hurried toward the door she had indicated, all the while trying not to look as though he were in a rush. 

\---------

“So… you strap knives to your boots, and then you use them to travel across _ice?_ ” Sophos asked, horrified.

“Yes, that’s exactly it,” Helen laughed. “You’d love ice skating, I’m sure of it.”

Voice full of doubt, Sophos replied, “I suppose I’ll have to try—”

She put a finger to his lips to shut him up. “Did you hear that?”

“No, what was it?” 

“The magus, I think.” She strained to hear anything else, then snatched her hand away from Sophos, who had grabbed it and was kissing her palm. “Now is not the time!” she whispered.

The tail end of a line of dialogue floated up the stairwell: “...went down that hall.”

“Oh no,” smiled Sophos, trying not to laugh. “Someone saw us leave.”

“Shh,” said Helen as they heard quick footsteps coming toward them down the hall. They sat perfectly still in the weak light. 

The magus appeared at the bottom of the stairwell, walking quickly past them. He glanced around him as he went, briefly casting his eyes toward Helen and Sophos, but he didn’t seem to realize they were there. The shadows in the stairwell had hidden them from view. 

Sophos opened his mouth as though to speak, but Helen widened her eyes and put her finger to her lips again. He nodded and pressed his lips together. He waited as long as he could and then collapsed in quiet laughter. “I should’ve realized he’d be running after us. He has to uphold my honor.”

“Oh, yes,” said Helen, “because that’s _so_ important.” She shook her head. “The poor magus, he must be so worried.” She was surprised the magus, not any of their guards or attendants, had been the first to come looking for them.

“He’ll be fine,” said Sophos. “We’re perfectly safe here. And nobody would have seen anything; we were just talking.”

“Well, mostly,” said Helen. She leaned forward to brace one hand on his knee and kissed him briefly on the forehead.

“Scandalous,” said Sophos, grinning. “If anyone finds out you kissed me on the forehead, rumors will be flying.”

“Oh, that wasn’t scandalous enough for you?” She shifted closer to him and held his face in her hands, kissing him deeply. 

Sophos reached for her, twining his fingers in her short hair.

All of a sudden, Helen decided to throw caution to the winds. “How about we take this off?” she murmured against his lips, undoing the front of his jacket.

“No, not my frogs,” he protested faintly. “They’re Eddisian.”

“So am I,” she said, undoing the last of the closures. “Which would you like to have on your chest, the frogs or my hands? You can’t have both.”

He responded by stripping off the jacket, tossing it aside, and pulling her to him. He’d unbalanced her, and they almost fell down the stairs. Helen threw one hand up against the wall behind Sophos’s head to stop them from tumbling down into the hallway. For several moments they were laughing too hard to keep kissing, but soon enough their laughter subsided and they were — mostly — quiet.

“Your Majesties,” came a serious voice from the hallway below. 

“Oh no,” whispered Sophos, pulling away just enough to look at Helen. He was determinedly _not_ looking at the magus, like a tiny child in a game of Seek and Find trying to stay hidden by closing their eyes.

Helen decided that this would be the time to leave, before she had to listen to the magus lecturing Sophos about irresponsibility. Patting Sophos on the cheek, she whispered, “See you later,” trying and failing to keep the smile off her face at his woeful expression. She cleared her throat and stood, smoothing her hair back into place. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said to the magus, voice politely calm. She held her skirts in one hand and walked smoothly down the stairs, nodding at the magus as she passed him. 

\-----------

“My King,” said the magus with a note of laughter evident in his voice, once Helen was out of earshot. “Enjoying the festivities?”

“I was a minute ago,” said Sophos. “How did you find us?”

The magus gestured at Sophos’ jacket, discarded several steps below where he and Helen had been sitting. The golden embroidery glinted in the light of the hall lamps. “Oh,” said Sophos.

“Oh, indeed.” The magus climbed a few steps and leaned casually against the handrail. “You do realize you can’t just disappear like this?”

Sophos sighed. “Yes, I know.”

“Anyone could have been waiting up that staircase to stab you,” said the magus.

“So you didn’t come and find us to protect my honor?” Sophos asked sarcastically.

The magus gave him an exhausted look. 

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to keep me safe,” said Sophos, appropriately chastened.

“And your posture is abysmal,” snapped the magus, pointing a finger at Sophos, who sighed, put his jacket back on, and sat up. The magus sighed too, shaking his head, and smiled at Sophos. “Go back to the party and find your queen,” he told his king. “Soon enough you’ll be married and then you won’t have to hide in stairwells anymore.”

Sophos grinned sheepishly. He’d be seeing Helen again in an hour or two, but the magus didn’t need to know about that. He stood, and the two of them walked back into the bright light of the banquet hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's [the link to the art](https://fishmaid.tumblr.com/post/634492976208510976/) if you'd like to go reblog it! 
> 
> [ Come and yell about the books with me in the Queen's Thief discord server!](https://discord.gg/Z4aCXtdJYx)
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


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